I suppose that knowing you are being rejected is better than never hearing anything back from a publisher. I've sent out "The Power of Soup" to five publishers and have only heard back from two including this one:

This letter was sent on a half sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 paper. I've got to give it to them for telling me to go fuck off and helping the environment with using 50% less paper.

I was friends with a few illegal immigrants for a few months. These illegals were from England, so on the scale of illegals that people grind their teeth about, they were towards the acceptable end.

I was in Denver a few years back when the Californians were just starting to take over the real estate en mass. Right before I moved there, a friend of a friend gave me the name of a guy named Rob who lived in Denver and that I should get in contact with him if I wanted a drink. I wanted a drink, so I called Rob. Rob was very friendly and introduced me to his circle of friends. His circle included a couple of illegal aliens from England.

The one undocumented worker I hung out the most was a brick layer. I forget his name, so I’ll call him Mason. Mason had worked his way across the country. He would get a job at a construction site, give a fake social security number and claim 243 exemptions on his paycheck so that no taxes would be taken out. When Uncle Sam would come knocking, he’d run out the back door. He’d made it from New York to Colorado. Not bad. Mason was in a spot of trouble because he had fallen in love with one of Rob’s American female friends. Love means sticking around and hiding from the government. Love stinks.

We all got together in a bar one night with a large group of Rob’s friends. Two of Mason’s friends showed up as well. They were illegals from England who were working in Vail as midwives. How the hell do you get a job as a midwife when you don’t have residency? Oh well. I can just imagine her accent during the delivery, “Right luv, ya need ta push ‘arder if you wont that bah-bee ta come out. FUKIN' POOSH!”

I was smitten by one of the girls. She had a very think accent and thicker skin. She drank and drank. My two favorite qualities in a woman. She and I stood talking for a few minutes as I tried to pick her up with my endless charm. Another guy slid over and stood by listening in on our conversation, trying to harp in on my action. At some point, he found a pause to interject, “You have a very interesting accent. Where are you from?”

She turned to him and said plainly:

“Me mother’s cunt.”

The guy, though stiff with shock, rolled himself up into a very small ball and wobbled back across the room.

I fell even deeper into love.

But, she wanted nothing to do with me. I tried too hard. She found some other boy that night and I ended up with only this story.

I left Denver a few months later without ever hooking up with an illegal alien. I do not know if Mason stayed in love or continued his Westward run from Uncle Sam.

Have you heard of carbon credits? We all generate pollution that is usually created through dirty, non-renewable energy. You can offset your bad energy usage by purchasing carbon credits. It’s a bogus way for us to all feel good about setting our air conditioner down to 68 degrees.

I’m not a smart man, but I know an opportunity when I see one. That’s why I am offering, for a small fee, Morality Credits.

Morality Credits can be purchased for a mere $10 per credit. In turn, I will then perform good deeds to combat your immoral acts and to add balance to the universal karma teeter-totter. This gives you the opportunity to sin and wake up in a back alley with a clear conscious.

Say for instance, you want to go out to the nudie bar. On the Morality Credits chart you will see that an hour in the nudie bar (with one lap dance per hour) will cost you two Morality Credits ($20). In turn, I will volunteer with Meals on Wheels for two hours to off set your sins.

If you want to cheat on your spouse, you’ll need to buy ten Morality Credits ($100.) In turn, I will help 320 old ladies to cross the street. Some of you may question, "How do we know you are committing good acts without any proof." That is a very good question which reminds me that doubting is a sin and costs two Morality Credits.

Morality Credits also works the other way. If you are the charitable type and volunteer your time or give money to a charity, I am offering Morality-Bucks, good for future-sins (Morality-Bucks expire one year after they are issued, though the good feelings last forever. Morality-Bucks are non-transferable. Do not taunt Morality-Bucks.) For every goody-two-shoes Morality-Bucks issued, I will do some sinful act to create balance in the universe. Many of you may think that I am double dipping into the sins by giving credit for future sin and then taking on some of the sin myself. That’s OK because we all know that good is better than evil and evil needs to try twice as hard.

You can buy individual Morality Credits for $10 or you can buy a set of 1000 for $200,000 and get 1000 free!

Here is a sample of sins and the necessary Morality Credits needed to balance out your sin.

Driving 10 MPH over the speed limit-----1 Morality CreditCheating on test-----1 Morality CreditCheating on girlfriend-----4 Morality CreditsCheating on boyfriend-----20 Morality Credit (girls shouldn’t cheat)Trip to nudie bar (one hour/one lap dance)-----2 Morality CreditsDrinking when you said you’d work late-----2 Morality CreditsWorking late when you said you be drinkin’-----2 Morality-BucksMasturbating to Goat Porn-----1 Morality CreditSex with a goat-----1 Morality Credits plus 10 more for cheating

So you see, it is advantageous for you to clear your conscious and your wallet to keep the balance balanced.

Contact me at holyjuan@gmail.com if you have a sin that needs an amount determined or if you need to purchase additional credits.

"It's not about how to achieve your dreams, it's about how to lead your life. If you lead your life the right way the Karma will take care of itself; the dreams will come to you."-Randy Pausch

{Author's note: On July 24th, 2008, Randy Pausch passed away. Though he stressed that we should not mourn his passing, it is impossible to not feel that the Earth is sagging a bit lower in the sky today.}

Randy Pausch will probably be dead in as few as three months. Watch this news story on his final lecture at Carneige/Mellon.

Many people wonder if their actions outside of a relationship could be considered as cheating. I have developed a list of acceptable discrepancies. Check to see if you are a cheater or someone with a very good excuse.

It’s not cheating if you…

...get a handjob from a lesbian.

...have sex with a second cousin.

...get a blowjob in a different country. (And yes, Canada and Mexico are different counties. The District of Columbia is not, but close enough.)

...are being videotaped. (I'd call that auditioning.)

...pay for sex. (That's called a transaction.)

...are about to die or possibly may die in the next 14 days.

...have sex with a paraplegic.

...are stuck in an elevator. (Hitting the EMERGENCY STOP button does not count.)

Jenn, Jen, Dave and I were eating lunch today when we noticed the Mansfield Newspaper on an adjacent table. What we really noticed was the above ad for people with back problems. Here is the whole ad. (Click to enlarge for a really good look.)

The following is a series of e-mails between myself and a Nigerian Scammer. To make things interesting, I had the scammer e-mail several different characters. The people you are about to encounter are as follows:

Ibrahim Griffis – the scammerFrank Stein – original receiver of the e-mail; stomach cancer suffererCharles Handsey – Son of Frank, takes over the e-mail process in the middleDee Sknuts – business friend of Charles, sneaks the deal away from Charles

I switch back and forth between the participants who are e-mailing. To keep this as easy to read as possible, I will bold the “From: and “To:” within the e-mails. I’ll also edit the top bit to show “From” first. Anything in {brackets} is an editor's note. {Thanks to ILuvNUFC for the line code.}

It is my pleasure to contact you today after praying fervently in this order, for a business venture which I intend to establish in your country.{edited out blah blah scammer blah} Trunk Box that contains $9,000,000 (Nine Million United States Dollars) which he made with a security company for safe keeping in this very country. I have verified and confirmed the deposit to be intact. And he registered the box as an African Artwork belonging to his business associate abroad.

After the burial, my late father's family took possesion of all his properties {edited out blah blah scammer balh blah blah} deposited trunk box that contains the above mentioned amount which they are not aware of.

Thanks for your mail response. However I need you to understand that I had made up my mind to live and invest in your country, ever before contacting you. I believe I will be safe with you in your country. {edited out scammer blah blah blah} Lastly I want you to know that I have with me all the documents covering this deposit which was issued directly to my late father by the company on the day of deposit. Again I would love you to be reaching me through this my yahoo alternative email address. I am waiting to hear from you. Pls try and call me with this number +226 7635 4361, immediately you receives this mail so that we can discuss at length the position of things.

What an opportunity! I would love to help, but alas, I have just been diagnosed with Stomach Cancer this morning and do not have long to live on this Earth. The money might help to find a cure for me or to help pay for the Stomach Cancer Medicine, but probably not fast enough.

I have shared your information with my son, Charles Handsy, and he wants to help you. Please contact him at xxx@gmail.com .

If you wants your son to take your place in this matter then tell him to contact me ok, otherwise I will start looking for someone else. It is true that I needed your help but I am not desperate ok. I know I will find someone for sure even when you decline, there will be a way out because the will is already there. Anyway am so sorry for your ill health. May God help you to live because doctors are not God. God is the one that has the final say in your life not the doctors. Doctors do fail most times but God never fails.

Is this the guy you were talking about that needs your help? Have him e-mail me with the information. If I cannot help him, I'm sure my cousin Saul would. Saul just inherited that money from his Aunt. I'm hoping I can get my hands on some of that cash before he spends it all!

Thanks so much for accepting to help me out in this very matter. However I will be glad if you can call me on phone so that we discuss. I believe your father has given you some information regarding this matter.

Thanks as I expect your response urgently.

Yours Ibrahim.

------------------------------------------------------From: Frank Stein To: Charles Handsy, Ibrahim GriffisJul 18Please son... as a final favor to me... help this man...

I think your father might have given you every information of my person and what I needed. But I want to tell you now to forward to me your full contact information so that I can forward them to the security company and at the same time introduce you to the company as the very business associate to my late father before you can contact them for the release of this trunk box that contained this $9,000,000.00USD to you. I want here now to call me on phone so that we can discuss.

Dear Charles,Thanks for your mail. Well my dear there are so many evil men and women in our world today. Since the existence of the world evil has always been there even from the very first begining but that does not mean that everybody is evil. No there are trusted people everywhere and that trust is what I have found in you. Pls put every fears behind you because I barely can hot a fly how much my fellow human beings. God forbid. Here is my number and I will be very happy to explain things for you on phone. +226 7607 2337. Pls just say that you will love to speak with Ibrahim. You know I am in a refugee camp. Pls you can only know that I am the one speaking if I say (IN GOD WE TRUST)

I will be waiting anxiously for your call.

Thanks for everything even as I know and believe that everything will soon be finalised successfully.

I am ready to contact any body. If you wish to let her into this matter then give her my number. You are such a funny fellow, you said you called me but I never noticed any sign of any call. That is strange.

I am separating my association from my partner Charles. I will help you, but please do not tell him that I am helping you. I am done with his foolishness and his "father's cancer." I actually think his father drinks too much. Did you know that he is a Jehovah's Witness? Those people sleep with their own children! Almost as bad as the Muslims.

Thanks anyway for your mail. The only way I can believe and trust your seriousness is for you to call me with this number +226 7635 4361. Once I receives your call and speaks with you at lenght thereby giving you every details concerning this matter.

I want you to know that I do not deal with unserious minded people in my life and that is why I never responded to all the mails you people has been sending. I have more serious things to do with my time rather than wasting it on internet while responding to foolish mails.

I was begining to bring someone else that will help me in this matter but let me see how serious you are. Let me just give you that benefit of doubt before looking for an alternative. For cry out loud business is not by force it is either you are in or out. You dont contemplate on how to treat an Emmergency.

I am in complete agreement with you. Why don’t some people just get to the point? I hate when my time is wasted! If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t use up my precious time. If I had time to waste I'd be doing something else! Don’t people understand that I am a busy woman!! I have better things to do. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself. I cannot believe that people would waste my time with these "e-mails" and make me spend MY valuable time listening to them complain. If you have something to say... SAY IT! I cannot believe that in this day in age with technology that people think we can sit around on the porch like a bunch of porch sitting people and waste time! Enough of that!! If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t use up my precious time. If I had time to waste I'd be doing something else! Don’t people understand that I am a busy woman!! I have better things to do. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.

I am calling you right now.

I hope that Charles father DIES of stomach cancer. I never liked the guy. Did you know he was a Catholic?

I cannot seem to make the call. I do not know if I am dialing the number wrong or if I have the wrong international code or what. I am dialing 011+ 226 7635 4361It may also be that my internet phone does not allow me to call overseas.

Is there any way we can do this through the certified mail or over the internet?

You'd think the telephone people would be able to figure this out. Who do they think they are? Protestants?

Love,

Dee

------------------------------------------------------From: Dee SknutsTo: Griffis IbrahimAug 4I can see that you are not serious about this project. I have several other offers in my e-mail that I am going to track down. I'm sure THEY will be more helpful.

Good luck, Mr Griffis.

Dee

------------------------------------------------------From: Dee SknutsTo: Griffis IbrahimAug 7OK, I have called SIX times! Each time the phone will ring and ring. Do you not have a message service?

You'd think the phone company was being run by a bunch of red neck Arabs.

Thanks for your mail and am sorry for the problems in getting me on phone as you may wish to know africans does not have good communication like your part of the world. Pls there is an urgent serious development. I had been ejected out of the camp because somebody implicated me in a case to which I know nothing whatsover about. Right now am roaming about the street, since the catholic where I had stayed for the past 4 days now has asked me to leave tonight. That is why I had not been able to respond to your mails since all these while.

Pls I will need $500 from you so that I can secure an accomodation in any local hotel around for the main time while we wait for the security company to release the trunk box that contained this money to you. Pls send the money to me directly on my name by western union money transfer GODWIN KEN GRIFFIS, CATHOLIC CATHEDRALE, OUAGADOUGOU BURKINA FASO. Meanwile I want you to send to me your full address and telephone numbers so that I can submit same to the security company and at the same time introduce you to the security company as the very business associate to my late father, while I shall be giving you the company's contact afterwards and I will also be directing you on how to contact the company in this regard. But pls be informed that there is nothing I can do unless you helps out with this money because I do not even have my transport fare to the security company's office which is very far away from where am been located now.

I just checked the exchange rate. It says that 500 CFA Franc BCEAO (XOF) = 1.05088 US Dollar (USD).

You want me to send you 500 CFA Franc, but that only makes $1.05 in US dollars.

That does not seem like very much.

Are you sure you don’t need like 1000 CFA Franc?

Please let me know.

And damn that catholic for throwing you out on the street! Almost as bad as the Lutherans!

Dee

------------------------------------------------------From: Griffis Ibrahim To: Dee SknutsAug 10I asked you to send me five hundred united states dollars. $500usd that is why what I said. Maybe you are just making fun of me anyway, otherwise when you see this sign, even a baby knows that this sign $ means dollars so you telling me all these is completely out of the question. When you wants to helps me then do if not tell me to look for someone else instead of suffering me this way, it will not be of any benefit to you at the end.------------------------------------------------------From: Dee SknutsTo: Griffis IbrahimAug 12Are you calling me stupid? You are the one sleeping in the streets. You are the one living in a refugee camp. You are the one BEGGING me for money.

I'm sorry that I did not understand what type of money you wanted. I am I supposed to know that you can spend US dollars in your country!! I can't spend your money in my country, how am I supposed to know that you can spend my money in your country!!

I have attached a photo of the $500 AMERICAN DOLLARS.

You want it? You better say you were sorry for calling be a baby.

The people at the money transfer office want a secret word as well. What secret word would you like to use that you can remember? Please do not make it a dirty word as I will be embarrassed.

Dee

{The "photo" of the money. I think there's actually about a hundred thousand dollars in that photo.}

------------------------------------------------------From: Griffis Ibrahim To: Dee SknutsAug 13Thanks and am sincerely sorry ok. You can make this question and answer text like this:

Am so sorry for keeping you waiting. I had been seriously sick for couple of days now. Well I am still not too good healthwise as at this moment but I struggled my way through to respond to your mail as well send you my photo.

Pls try and send me this money immediately without further requests as this will only worsen my situation healthwise hence I needed this money to buy some drugs urgently.

It has been five days since I sent you the money and I hear nothing back from you?

You ARE a scammer! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you.

Damn you! Damn you to hell!

Signed for the last time,

Dee

------------------------------------------------------From: Griffis Ibrahim To: Dee SknutsAug 28You are very funny. Where is the information of the money you sent. I mean what is the question and answer text, and the control numbers. Honestly I do not understand a bit of what you are saying by calling me scammer. What an embarrasment all for the sake of the little assistance I needed from you. Quite unfortunate my dear.

I deal with so many offers in Africa that I think I deposited your money in someone else's account!!

I am deeply sorry! You needed the Money Transfer Our code was:

QUESTION: TO WHO?ANSWER : IBRAHIM

Instead, I sent the money directly to a bank account under a different name. (See attached photo) I crossed out my person information, but you can clearly see I deposited $500 American United States of America United State Dollars into the account.

I am sorry! I am contacting that gentleman and seeing if he can forward the information to him. Here was my letter to him:

To whom it may concern:

"I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uhmmm, some people out there in our nation don't have maps and uh, I believe that our, I, education like such as uh, South Africa, and uh, the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and I believe that they should, uhhh, our education over here in the US should help the US, uh, should help South Africa, it should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future, for us."

Until then, do you still need the $500?

Signed,

Dee Sknutz

{The document}

-------------------------------------------------------Sadly, that was my last communication with Mr. Griffis. I hope he made it out of the refugee camp. If I hear anything from him, I'll let you know.

I just got back into the cubical work environment. My company is not as starchy as most corporate headache companies I’ve read about, but there is something to learn from working for a larger company. Here’s what I’ve figured out in my first month:

1. Cubicles are AWESOMEDo not believe anyone that says cubical life is horrible. I have 5.5 sq ft of privacy. I can hang whatever photos or knickknacks I want on to the beige, carpeted walls. If I scrunch up, bend just right and use my feet as a pillow, I can sleep under my desk for an afternoon nap. You can also throw a foam ball into the masses of walls and no one will ever know you did it.

2. Know where the first aid kit isI’ve needed it twice. Once because I was fucking around with a razor sharp knife and the second time because I was imitating what I was doing the first time when I was fucking around with the razor sharp knife.

3. Take the StairsOur CEO is a big fan of taking the stairs. If you see him in the stairwell; bonus points. If you are getting on the elevator and he is getting off, ask him, “Is the short cut to the stairs?” or tell him that you are working on a MythBuster’s interactive exhibit and ask if he’s got a tape measure on him.

4. Saying “fuck” is badThe word fuck travels through cubical walls and office doors. Cutting most of your finger off is not an excuse for cursing. The best you can do is stand up on your desk and say, “Hey! Watch the language,” and hope your VP is at lunch.

5. Having a blog is badA blog can be dangerous. Especially when it is mine. What may have helped to get you hired is now a liability. Be careful about writing things that may offend the bald guy in the office or posting photos of you doing dumb shit at the workplace. Do not write about how hot co-workers daughters are! Especially the CEO's. I mean smoking hot.

6. All the good sites are blockedFor years I heard friends lamenting about not being able to get their personal e-mail or visit their favorite website. I told them to suck it up and wait until they got home. Now it is different. I’d say that 50% of the sites I attempt to visit are blocked for some reason. Sure, I can look at the Google cache, but it’s such a pain. It’s not like I am trying to look at porn (mostly.) I’m sure there is a good reason why the sites are blocked, but I’m not about to question why for fear of being monitored. I’ve read about work-arounds to get Gmail or proxies to go to blocked sites, but it’s my first couple of weeks and I do not want the internet lecture just yet.

7. Lunch is a painI love to eat. I love to go out to lunch. So does everyone else. Everyone else cannot decide on one place to go to. Everyone else cannot fit in one car to go to lunch. Inevitably what happens is that three people are upset they were not told about lunch, two people couldn’t go at a certain time because of meetings, two other people didn’t like where we were going in the first place and one person predicted the food would be bad and was right. In the end, only one person is happy and that is because they ran into the CEO in the stairwell as they were going to the cafeteria to eat crappy lunch alone.

8. Steno pads are better than a Palm Pilot.That is a half truth. I cannot get my palm to sync with our Groupwise mail system. I’m not sure if I don’t like Groupwise or if I just need to get used to it. It’s just hard to hold a PalmPilot and fake looking at a task list that isn’t there while playing solitaire when everyone at the meeting knows that Palm and Groupwise don’t mix. Now, if I could get on an internet site that had helpful software so that my Palm and Groupwise could talk, that would be great. Sadly, those sites are blocked.

9. Nametags are a crutchWe wear nametags at work. This is great when you are walking down the hall and need to say hello to someone. This is bad when you have to recall someone’s name at a meeting and are forced to describe them by what shirt their nametag was attached to. Hint: avoid the word cleavage when describing what the person looked like. Especially when it is a guy.

10. You are only the “new guy” for a very short time. Make a good impression.Show up early – failedDon’t be late to meetings- failedDon’t make fun of your boss’ bald head - failedDon’t get caught staring – failedDon’t say fuck really loud – failedDon’t make a “women are bad drivers” comment in front of your VP – failedKeep whistling down to a minimum – failedDon’t go out drinking and dancing at Skully’s your first week of work and then roll in at 9:04am the next day- FailedDon’t do the above again tomorrow – Pre-failed

My friend Stephanie likes to send me e-mails to remind me that I, as a male, am a simpleton and should just listen without provocation to what any woman says. Here is the list she sent me:

Phrases Women Use

Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)

That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just say you're welcome.

Whatever: Is a women's way of saying F**K YOU!

Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response refer to #3.

I would follow that list up with the following:

Phrases Women Don't Use

Yes you can: Women will never say this. Ever. Unless the man asks if he can give her a foot massage or shove his head up his own ass.

No thanks, one scoop is enough: Obvious. Works with most portions like slice, bowl or dozen.

I don’t understand: Women will instead say, “I understand” even if they don’t just so they don’t look like they are stupid. When the thing they don’t understand catches on fire, then they ask for help by screaming.

Would you like to have sex again?: More obvious

I like your friends: You won’t hear this unless she is hooking up with one of them.

I’ll buy: You might hear this one, but she really doesn’t mean it. Get out your wallet, champ.

I'll change the tire: It's not that they don't know how to, it's just that their jeans are so low that if they bend over they might misplace the tire iron down their crack. What they don’t realize is that just by bending over on the side of the road, 8 – 10 cars, Harleys and semis will stop and ask if she needs help.

This makes my ass look big: You might think you have heard this one before, but as a question in the form of "DOES this make my ass look big." Your response to either was probably the same and you are still not going to get any action.

Can my friend join in?: You'll never hear this one. Unless the friend is a dude and your role is to hold the camera.

I was driving. Brett was in the passenger seat. Russ, with his always present cup of iced tea, and Woody were in the back seat. We were driving around and looking for girls. So basically we were just driving around. The car was Dodge 600ES. It had everything. Digital dashboard. Tape deck with auto play. Power windows. Power locks. It was a sedan, but it was stick shift. And it talked. From “Your door is ajar” to “Your oil pressure is low. Prompt service is required.” We called it The Spy Car.

I was third in line for the spy car so I got it around 1989. By then, a lot of the James Bond stuff had stopped working. Digital dash only came on in metric. Tape deck needed a pencil jammed in it to work. Power windows only worked ½ the time. Power locks only worked 1/6th of the time. The voice had stopped annoying us two year prior. But we still called it the Spy Car.

Brett had bottle rockets. This wasn’t unusual. As we drove around neighborhoods, he’d fire one out the window saying, “This is my last one.” Fifteen seconds later, “This is my last one.” I tried to roll up his window with the master controls, but they were not functioning on that day. We all shouted for him to quit, but he didn’t. He finally said, “This is my last one,” and he was right, though he didn’t know it at the time. As he went to poke the lit-fuse rocket out the window, it clipped the door frame and rebounded back into the car at his feet.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! (We all scrunched our bodies as far as physically possible from the passenger seat. I couldn’t see, but I’m sure Russ and Woody were clasping each other in a girlish hug of fear. It's also pretty tough to drive stick scrunched up in to a fetal ball. With neither of my feet on the pedals, the car started to shudder and jerk.)

Brett put his sneakers on top the rocket. “Don't worry! I've got it!” He shouted.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. CRACK!

The rocket shot up from under his feet and up the dash and in front of the glove compartment and it hit the ceiling and shot back down between the passenger seat and Brett’s back. Now wedged, the rocket blew pinkish fire on to the seat and Brett’s back. He leaned forward and the rocket shot off, disappearing somewhere in the car and, with a suggestion of muffled silence, exploded.

Even with all the windows open, the car was filled with acrid smoke. The car managed to stall to a stop. Everyone was bailing out of the car. I looked over and the passenger seat had a small oval of fire, eerily growing larger. I slapped it out with my hand. I quickly learned that burning passenger seat is comprised of fire and hot melty plastic that sticks to your hand and burns like napalm. Well, napalm jr.

While I was having a chemistry lesson in the front of the car, Russ was putting Brett’s shirt out. During this whole ordeal, Russ had managed not to spill his large cup of Baskin Robbins ice tea. As he exited the car, he saw that the back of Brett’s shirt was on fire. He calmly threw the entire contents of the cup on to Brett’s back, dousing the flames. Brett turned around and said, “Thanks for saving my life Russ.”

No, he didn't say that.

“Thanks for putting out my shirt that was on fire and on me at the same time.”

Not that either.

“Fucker! You ruined my shirt!”

See, Brett was wearing a one of a kind, Bowling Green, 1989 Doyt L. Perry Stadium Night Game t-shirt. Bowling Green University spent about $50,000 for huge portable lights to illuminate the football field and play a night game. Brett bought a shirt and he was very proud of it.

Brett was not aware of the fist sized hole burnt into the back of his shirt. He was also not aware of the fist sized 2nd degree burns on his back. In less than five minutes, he was very well aware of the burns. He’s got a scar there that he never gets to see.

I got out of the car and walked to the other side. We were all a bit shocked and forgot to beat the shit out of Brett. My car was sitting in the middle of a side street. Doors open with only the smell of the smoke left. I reached down a felt a pain in my ass region. I pulled my fingers back and there was blood on them. A quick inspection revealed that a chuck of my ass was gone. A small chuck by ass standards, but still. When Brett leaned forward in the car, the rocket must have shot over and between my ass and the car seat where it exploded. Inspection of the front seat revealed a little red stick poking out of a small blackened crater.

When we tallied up the losses it came out to:

One shirt (ruined, though I think he kept it)One passenger seat top part (later covered in the taxi driver bead stuff)One driver’s seat bottom part (matching taxi driver bead stuff)One glass of ice tea One pair of yellow shortsPart of my ass

We got back in the car and drove to Monica’s house. Her mom patched Brett up and I used a lot of gauze and the white cloth tape in the privacy of the bathroom to patch myself up. We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and thinking about what it would be like to have sex with Monica.

I told my folks a partial truth lie. Friends of friends (not our friends, honest) had been setting off fireworks and one ended up flying into the car. The perfect story. They didn’t believe it for a minute.

Miss Sally and I stayed in last night and watched “Bridge to Terabithia.”

*Please stop reading now. I’m not a reviewer and I am really not that intelligent. What I am about to say is going to be rantful and include a lot of swear words and it also might be unintelligible, even after editing. It will also include details and spoilers about the movie. If you plan to ever watch this debacle, stop reading now and check out some porn instead.*

What a fucking crock of horseshit. On at least three or four levels I am completely fucking pissed that Bridge to Terabithia was ever created. Damn you Mr. Director and your little buddies Mr. and Mr. Scriptwriter. Assholes.

Here are the basics:

-This movie was well reviewed and it takes a lot for a Fantasy movie to get good ratings. -I’d seen the trailer for this film and it seemed very interesting. Again, Fantasy movies are usually pretty shitty.-I want to have sex with Zooey Deschanel.-I’ve got a soft spot in my heart for boy meets girl movies where there might be a Pit of Despair or similar.

That being said, I was tricked and deceived and screw you movie people.

First off, this “Fantasy” movie has about seven minutes of fantasy in it. There’s a mutated squirrel, a bunch of metal bugs and a troll. Oh! I forgot to mention the Shadow Lord who wisps in and out with a jingle of keys. Not once, except at the very, very end of the movie does the plot slip into a 100% fantasy world and by that point I was so pissed that I didn’t care. I think the credits actually start rolling over top the world. In the classic fantasy flick The Neverending Story, there was a small amount of time spent in the “real” world and a great amount of time spent in the “fantasy” world. “Bridge” is the exact OPPOSITE. I wouldn’t be so pissed except that the trailer for the film is 75% fantasy. As a matter of fact, if you watch the trailer, you’ve seen every bit of fantasy in the film.

THEY KILL OFF THE GIRL. Oh my god the just make her disappear. The cheapest shot in the movie business. (OK, this is based on the book, but you are allowed to change the story.) What really sucked was I was still waiting for the full immersion into the fantasy world when she winds up dead in the stream. What a load of crap. There was some incredible opportunity for her character to be “missing” and for him to fight his own demons to find her in the world. She could have been in a coma and he could have brought her back from the other side. But no. She’s dead. I was sad for half a second and then I was just angry. Assholes. Killing someone off is at the top of the list of BS movie tricks next to a writer not being able to figure out what their characters should say so they whisper it and the audience cannot hear it. (see Lost in Translation.)

But as I said, they make the girl lead character disappear. Really disappear. She is never in the movie again except for a fleeting moment at her wake where a flash of light shoots across the screen. The boy can’t find her in the fantasy world. They don’t even hint that it was her that laid the logs across the river. And in the end of the movie when we are finally shown the fantasy world, she is no where to be found. What a steamy heap of bullshit. There was some terrific opportunity for the audience to leave with a little bit of respect, but they just forgot about the audience in the eight million dollar CGI film ending with credits.

Zooey Deschanel does not get naked.

On top of all that, all the adult characters are unbelievable. Not a problem in most fantasy movies where you only see them for a minute. In this film, we have to watch them for ninety minutes. Uncaring mom. A farmer who doesn’t have anything more than a greenhouse. Two writer parents who were torn straight from Cliché Monthly Magazine. Bullies who only understand violence.

This film had a lot of opportunities to be inventive and outstanding. The two lead actors worked well before they killed 50% of them off. The “fantasy” world had so many possibilities. I love to see bullies get their comeuppance in clever ways and this movie failed at that as well. So many failings. So many fucking failings. Assholes. Breaking my heart for nothing.

When I started my job, I received the standard desktop computer, monitor, keyboard and mouse.

As part of my regimen when starting a new job, I removed the INSERT key from the keyboard.

Keyboard

After INSERT removal

It popped right off and I keep it in my desk drawer for pranks and for when I have to replace it once I get fired.

I'm not really sure what purpose the INSERT button serves other than to screw me up when typing. With these sausage fingers of mine, when I go for the DELETE key, I sometimes slip over and hit the INSERT key. When Word goes into typeover mode, I'm usually eight to ten letters in before I notice. I immediately forget when the hell I was typing so I have to go in and UNDO until I get back to where I was in the first place. It's best just to get rid of the INSERT key.

The moral to this story is that on Wednesday, I came back to my desk after a meeting and this is what my keyboard looked like:

Freckled Jenn had bought me a gag gift while she was traveling and wanted to drop it off. I was not at my desk when she stopped by and she left it in the little keyboard nest I had created earlier.

It is a perfect fit. What's great is that the bottom of the PORNO key is flat (it's got an adhesive back that I have not peeled off) so that it does not trigger the INSERT mechanism. I can leave it there until I get fired.